Dear Readers,

Hello, it is I, back from the dead with a new oneshot. To those of you who are still interested in reading this, thank you for your continued support! I've had a ton of ideas floating around in my head for the past several months, but this is a relatively newer one that I ultimately chose to write since it fit the parameters for the "My Heart is a Jungle" fanfic contest on Wattpad. This one is a pre-relationship fic, taking place in the Glory Days as one of the hundreds of possible scenarios of how Bob and Helen ended up falling love. Unfortunately I have to admit this story is a bit rushed for two reasons: a) I procrastinated until the very last minute to finish this before the contest deadline (I literally submitted it five minutes before the cutoff lmao), and b) I was unable to fit what I originally intended into the required word limit, so I had to tweak the ending last-minute. As such, if you've bothered to read this note up until this point, you will be screaming at me for ending it the way that that I have, and I apologize in advance. However, despite this story's shortcomings, I hope that you will still enjoy, and as always, please don't hesitate to leave a review! Thanks!

Best Regards,
Pooka


Soundtrack: "Hanging By A Moment" by Lifehouse


Hanging By A Moment


"I'm desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you

I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you…"


"So. You worried?"

Helen Truax - or, rather, Elastigirl - turns around to meet the gaze of her inquiring companion, the edges of her lips twitching upward into a tiny smirk as she rolls her eyes in response to the question.

"You asked me that five minutes ago."

He pouts, and the stark contrast between his towering stature and the juvenile look on his face almost makes Helen burst into laughter.

"I did not."

She rolls her eyes yet again before returning her attention to the blinding white expanse of clouds rapidly spilling out before them. "You did. And you asked five minutes before that. Look, I'm not worried, and no, my answer hasn't changed in the last ten minutes. So you don't have to keep asking."

She hears him shift his weight in the cabin behind her, and the telltale thump-thump of his footsteps against the floor draws closer. "Then why did you go back to the cockpit? I thought we were on autopilot."

Helen lets out a deep sigh and pushes herself up from the pilot's seat, twisting her body to face the man hovering just a few paces behind her. "I told you. I just need to check if everything's all right every now and then until it's time to land at the base. There's nothing to worry about."

"Heh, I'll believe that when we actually land, thank you very much."

He folds his arms across his broad chest, and his brow furrows in a way that makes something stir in her gut - that's been happening a lot lately, and far more often than she cares to admit. But she chooses to ignore the sensation before the thoughts buried deep in the furthest corners of her mind seize their chance to overwhelm her. She's on a mission, after all. No use in letting herself get distracted, even if there's no present danger.

"You know, for someone who calls himself 'Mr. Incredible', you sure are one hell of a wimp."

His jaw drops open in outrage. "I am not a wimp!"

Helen snorts, brushing past the man in question, once again ignoring the annoying feelings swirling in her lower abdomen at the brief second of contact. "I dunno. You sure sound like one."

"I have legitimate concerns!"

"Mysteriously disappearing somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle is not a 'legitimate concern', Bob."

"Yes, it is!" Mr. Incredible - Bob - cries, trailing after Helen as she stretches to open an overhead compartment and grab a cooler of food. "Just because you think the stories are ridiculous doesn't mean they aren't true!"

"There's been no evidence to corroborate any of it."

"No evidence?! How do you explain the missing boats we're supposed to be investigating?"

Helen groans, pausing to plant her hands on her hips in frustration. "I mean, no evidence of some paranormal…voodoo or whatever these conspiracy nuts think it is. We're investigating possible criminal activity, not UFO's or sea monsters. Do you really think the NSA would have sent us out here if they thought there was any possibility of us just disappearing without a trace?"

Bob grimaces. "There's a lot of things the NSA likes to keep secret. Even from us. Remember how hush-hush they were about the Philadelphia Experiment - "

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Bob, not that nonsense again!"

"It's not nonsense! There was some very convincing information that was leaked before the government put a cap on the whole issue!"

Helen heaves another sigh as she cracks open the cooler and retrieves a foil-wrapped sandwich, tossing the item at Bob before flopping down onto one of the passenger seats. "Look, you believe what you want to believe, and I'll stick to my facts, okay? Bottom line is, as long as I'm flying this mission, we'll be fine. You trust me, don't you?"

Bob fixes her with a unnervingly fierce stare, one that cuts right through her, and a cold shiver prickles up the length of her spine. He sometimes has a habit of doing this, staring straight into her like he can somehow peer past the defenses she's spent so many years carefully constructing around herself. As much as she hates to admit it, she's grown accustomed to her little inner fortress. It may keep her somewhat isolated, but it's safe, and given her past relationship experiences, she relishes the security of knowing that there is just enough of a barrier between her and everyone else that no one can touch her even if they tried. But for reasons unknown to her, Bob is different. To him, it's as if the walls she's built to protect herself don't even exist. With Bob, she's an open book - vulnerable, exposed, and utterly defenseless. Despite his sometimes infuriating tendency to be a bit thick-headed, he's the only person she thinks can really, truly see her underneath the image she projects to the rest of the world, and that notion both thrills and terrifies her more than she can ever hope to comprehend.

Helen's breath catches in her throat, but she is unable to tear her gaze away. Bob always has that effect on people - the ability to draw them in with little to no effort simply by virtue of being, well, himself. For all her super abilities, not even the invincible Elastigirl is immune to his magnetic pull. It's a force that is constantly tugging at her even when he's not around, and when he is, resisting it is about as useless as swimming against a rip current at high tide.

"Well?" Helen manages to croak when the tense silence between them becomes too much for her bear.

"Of course I trust you," Bob finally replies, his voice a quiet rumble, his blue eyes still boring into hers. "I trust you more than I trust anyone."

Her heart clenches in her chest at the admission, but she quickly dismisses it, and answers him before the warm flush creeping up her neck has a chance to betray her emotion.

"Then you've got nothing to worry about."

Bob regards her thoughtfully for a few seconds before at last breaking eye contact, much to Helen's relief. Seemingly placated for the moment, he lowers his hulking body onto the seat opposite Helen's and unwraps his sandwich. His stomach growls in anticipation and approval when the foil reveals a hefty double-decker roast beef club - his favorite, and slathered with a generous amount of mayonnaise no less. If he's going to vanish into thin air due to some supernatural anomaly, at the very least his last meal will have been a good one. Thank God for Honey and her impeccable cooking skills. If anyone deserves to open their own restaurant, it's most undoubtedly her, and Bob makes a mental note to be first in line on opening day out of sheer gratitude at having been spared time and time again on away missions from the horrors of pre-packaged NSA slop.

The pair eat in silence for several minutes, the need for rest and nourishment overtaking the need for conversation. Bob leans back against the headrest for a moment, deciding to savor the glorious taste of Honey's home-cooked roast beef instead of wolfing it down in one sitting as he usually would. He glances across at Helen, whose head is turned towards the window, the uneaten half of her sandwich balanced neatly on her lap. The sun streams through the glass, bathing her face in a luminous golden glow. The light catches on her long auburn hair, illuminating it such a way that it almost appears as if she's surrounded by a shimmering, fiery halo. For a woman with a personality as vibrant and as headstrong as Helen's, the image is more than appropriate, and Bob can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. She's an angel in the flesh, a Valkyrie without wings - equal parts serene beauty and indomitable warrior. She is without a doubt the most stunning thing he has ever seen, and it takes his breath away.

Not that he would ever say anything of the sort out loud. Bob is keenly aware of the fact that Helen will only ever see him as nothing more than a friend, and as much as it pains him to keep his distance, she means far too much to him for him to even consider crossing that boundary. There are things from her past - some things she's disclosed and others he's managed to infer for himself - that keep her cocooned in a bubble of self-sufficiency. Although her inclination towards isolating herself sometimes concerns him, he's not willing to burst that bubble and betray her trust. What began as a tense working relationship built on snide comments and ruthless competition has over time evolved into nothing short of an inseparable bond forged from mutual respect and admiration. Aside from Lucius, Helen is the best friend he's ever had,and no matter what he may feel, Bob will never do anything to jeopardize that.

That doesn't mean he won't often find himself wishing that the space between them was just a little less, or that her warm amber gaze would linger on his a tiny bit longer, or that the gentle touch of her hand would find its way to somewhere other than just his arm or his shoulder, or that her lips would do more than simply speak his name. However, he knows all too well that none of that is meant to be. He can't deny the hollow ache in his chest and the desperate longing gnawing at his insides whenever they're together. But Bob would rather live a life with Helen as his friend than live a life without her at all, and the knowledge that she'll always be there makes even the most trying times worth it.

All of a sudden, a loud beeping noise startles him out of his reverie. Before he can even blink, Helen bolts to her feet, abandoning her sandwich on the seat behind her and striding towards the cockpit. A surge of anxiety floods through his veins, and he snaps his head around to watch her slip back into the pilot's seat.

"Helen?" he squeaks, his voice several pitches higher than normal. "What's wrong?"

"Don't worry, it's probably nothing. Lemme just check - "

BOOM!

"Helen?!"

And then several things happen at once.

The cabin begins shuddering violently. Before Bob has a chance to even comprehend what's happening, the world is suddenly tilting on its axis, and he tumbles out of his seat onto floor. He scrambles to grab a hold of something but the floor continues tilting away from him, slipping farther and farther under him until the whole world is spinning, everything morphing into a dizzying blur of color and light. The movement tosses his body around with reckless abandon, hurling it across to one end of the cabin and back again, bouncing him about like a human pinball. He can hear Helen screaming into the radio over a cacophony of blaring sirens, and maybe he hears her screaming his name too - in between slamming into the seats and smacking against the ceiling, he can't make heads or tails of where he is or what's going on. His stomach lurches, and then something is wrapping around him or clutching his shoulder and screaming, screaming, SCREAMING - god, it's so loud and his head is pounding and maybe he's dying or going deaf or simply needs to wretch Honey's roast beef all over the walls and take a good long nap -

"BOB!"

He blinks, coming to, and realizes that it's Helen who's clutching him and doing all the screaming. One of her arms is wound so tightly around his that his has gone completely numb, while the other is wrapped securely around one of seats to steady them against the convulsions wracking the cabin.

"Helen?! What - "

"None of the controls are responding! I tried everything, I think there was some kind of explosion or something hit us - I don't know - but we've lost engines and we're losing altitude and we have to bail! NOW!"

"What?! But how - "

"There's no time!" Helen shrieks. "You have to open the emergency hatch! I'm not strong enough!"

Bob struggles to make sense of Helen's words amidst the chaos. "Emergency…what…what about parachutes?!"

"I'll be your parachute! GO! NOW!"

"WHAT?!"

"TRUST ME!"

Then it all clicks.

Oh god.

They're going to crash.

His gaze locks with Helen's as the realization of their horrifying reality finally hits him in full force. Her amber eyes are wide with terror, and it suddenly dawns on him that if they don't both make it out of this, this is the last time he'll ever see those eyes. The last time he'll ever see her. Just moments ago he was looking at her in awe and wonder, and now he's facing the possibility that this may be his last chance to look at her at all. His last chance to even be with her. His last chance to tell her how beautiful and amazing he thinks she is, his last chance to spill the three precious words he's kept buried deep inside his heart for so long. His last chance for…everything.

And maybe it's that overpowering fear, or the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body - or perhaps he's just delirious - but in the split second it takes for Bob to understand the gravity of the situation, he does the one thing, the only thing that makes sense to him.

He kisses her.

He grabs the sides of Helen's face, yanking her towards him - roughly, recklessly - and crashes his lips to hers. Time seems to slow, and in that instant he can feel her pushing violently against him, responding. Whether it's out of true reciprocation or terrified desperation, he has no clue, but if this is truly the end, then the details don't matter. All that matters is her body pressing into him, her fingers stretching and shoving into his hair, her mouth gasping and opening beneath his, her heartbeat hammering into his bones - the feeling of all of her enveloping him and consuming him in this one final, heated moment is all he needs - more than his own life, more than guarantee of his own survival.

And then, as quickly as it happens, it's over, and he pulls away, gulping in air as his gaze meets hers again. One last wordless message passes between them as they look into each other's eyes, before Bob launches himself at the emergency hatch and wrenches the door open.


A/N: Thanks again for reading! As you can see, I basically ended this on a massive cliffhanger (darn contest word limit), and again, I apologize profusely for any distress this has caused. This idea has somewhat blossomed into a concept for a potential chapter fic, so if I can maintain the motivation, I may attempt to work at that in the near? future (don't quote me on that, though xD). Consider this a VERY tentative rough draft for a possible? first chapter. As always, special thanks to SapereAude03 and Ilovetowrite75 for helping me brainstorm ideas! These stories wouldn't exist without you!